Intrinsic
by A Fire in the Attic
Summary: Being different has never really bothered Scott, but it's still nice to find a word for it. Ace!Scott. Scira, because apparently Kira still isn't an option in the character list.
1. Intrinsic

**Prompt**: Anonymous asked: ace Scott + person of ur choice.

**Pairings**: Scott/Kira, Scott/Allison

**Word** **Count**: 1313

Originally posted on tumblr at imagreatbowler; cross posted from AO3.

* * *

When they're thirteen, Stiles says, "Do you even like people like that?"

Scott knows, somehow, exactly what he means, because he always knows what Stiles means. What he doesn't know is how to answer it. He's tried thinking about sex before, and while it's not exactly repulsive, there's no one he can really picture trusting enough to do that with. He thinks that's probably weird, because he ___is_ thirteen, and his mom keeps calling him a bundle of hormones and he's pretty sure that means something about sex. Probably. Most things seem to be about sex.

Just…not for him.

So he just shrugs, and Stiles doesn't bring it up again.

* * *

Arousal is still a new thing for him by the time he and Allison work through their first box of condoms.

He figures out pretty quickly that he likes sex while it's happening, but he's not sure how much of that is just him liking Allison, and liking the way she looks during it. By the twelfth condom, he knows what triggers a reaction from him—a bite behind his ear, Allison's toes curling against his calves, a hand on his dick—but none just by seeing Allison nude, at the thought of Allison and sex.

And still nothing from porn.

One day at lunch, Stiles makes this face like he's figured Scott out. "Dude," he says. "You like girls!"

Scott's been saying that for years, because he ___does_ like girls, more than he likes guys, anyway, but he still thinks Stiles doesn't get it, and probably won't get it, because he can ___always_ smell the arousal on Stiles, and it's a smell he's never recognized on himself, outside of the bedroom. So he shrugs, says, "I like Allison."

Stiles purses his lips. "Not like…girls in general? Boobs? Nothing?"

Scott had never really understood the fascination with boobs until Allison's were touching his bare chest. He gives Stiles a blank look and says, "I like Allison's boobs."

Allison announces her arrival with a smack to the back of his head then, but her fingers curl in his hair and she kisses his cheek quickly. "Dork," she says fondly.

Stiles is still looking at him like he's a puzzle he can't solve.

* * *

After Allison, there's Kira, who's so charming and sweet he can't help but be drawn to her. She hands him a packet of research on death and demons, and all he can think about is how beautiful her smile is, even when it's embarrassed and obviously a little annoyed.

He wants to hold her hand and go hiking with her, which is such a weird urge he has to sit down two seats away from her to keep himself from asking.

He finds her phone number and a note at the end of the research offering to answer any questions he might have, and he doesn't really hesitate before sending, "Hey, it's scott."

She doesn't hesitate before sending back a smiley face.

He feels something warm settle around his heart, which is out of the blue considering all the darkness there, and he smiles at his phone for a long time.

They text a lot, after that, always under the guise of Scott asking a question. "Did we have history homework?" gets sent a lot, but he asks other things, too, like whether she prefers chocolate ice cream or frozen yogurt (ice cream), what her favorite color is (blood orange), what she wants to study in college (probably linguistics), and would she like to go out some time? (Yes.)

Their dates go well, because they're both passionate about Lady Gaga, puppies, and getting good enough grades to get into a good college. The first time she kisses him, it's nice and a lot like the way it used to feel when Allison kissed him. Just sort of…sweet.

"I don't really want to have sex," she tells him one time, when they're sitting in a coffee shop, legs tangled and holding hands. "Is that a problem?"

"No," he says and takes a drink of his tea. "I mean, sex is okay but I don't really need to have it or anything."

Kira's eyebrows lift in surprise, and then she smiles. "Are you—sorry, I just didn't think—are you ace?"

He has no idea what she's talking about. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I mean," she bites her lip. "You don't like girls? Or guys? Like…you're asexual."

"I thought asexuality was the thing where you divide in half. Binary fission or whatever."

"That's strictly reproductive," Kira says briskly, like she's had this discussion before. "Here, look." She opens her phone and types something quickly into QuikLookUp before handing it to him.

It's a page on the AVEN wiki, and his heart stutters when he reads "___It's an intrinsic part of who we are_." He reads the whole page, clicks on several links, caught up in the shock of it all, until Kira's phone flashes a 20% battery warning at him, and guiltily he remembers that he's on a date.

"Sorry," he whispers, and hands her back her phone. He feels a little shell-shocked. It's never particularly bothered him that he doesn't feel the same way about girls—or guys—that Stiles does. It has always been enough that he ___likes_people, that he ___can _be with them.

"It's okay," Kira says, smiling. "It can be overwhelming at first."

He nods numbly.

"I'm demi," she offers, when he doesn't speak for several minutes. "But I guess that probably wasn't mentioned on that page. And you're probably having an information overload right now, so maybe—I'll tell you later. Oh, um, your tea is probably cold by now." Her own cup is empty, he can tell, because he can smell the chocolate on her breath more strongly than in the cup.

He breathes slowly, and then downs the tea.

* * *

Slowly, Scott puts it all together.

His initial feelings for both Allison and Kira had been squishes that developed into romantic attraction, he thinks, but the squish he has on Stiles has never moved past friendship.

And he doesn't really have a sex drive, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy sex, he determines, and it's okay that he kisses and cuddles Kira, that he likes the feeling of her tucked under his arm and the way her hair tickles his neck when they watch movies.

"I might want to have sex one day, if that's okay," she says. She's staring at herself in the mirror, methodically scrubbing away a splatter of her own blood. There's a cut on her palm where a faery tried to stab her but instead only knicked her. Her coral lipstick has smeared off all but the edges of her lips, and her hair isn't as shiny as normal.

Scott still wants to curl his fingers through it while he hugs her, but after fights like this, she always needs a few hours to come back to herself, to allow his touch, especially skin contact.

"Is that okay?" she repeats, and now she looks at him through the mirror, licks her lips once.

He'd forgotten she'd asked. "Yeah," he says. "But I don't have any condoms right now."

"Not right now," she says, but her lips twitch, like she almost wants to smile. "But you can read to me." She points at the book sitting on the back of the toilet: a collection of T.S. Elliot's.

He reads to her about hollow men stuffed with straw and cats who act human, and when she's finally clean again, she curls up in his lap and they stay seated on the bathroom floor until her father sends her to bed.

Scott sneaks in through her window to cuddle with her, and wakes up with a face full of hair and a heart full of peace.

* * *

**A/N**: I guess I should clarify more fully that while Scott experiences no sexual attraction, he can and does enjoy sex, which obviously still puts him on the asexual spectrum. It's also implied that he's heteroromantic, or at least has a strong romantic preference for girls over guys.


	2. Indelible

**Anonymous asked: **"Could you please write another Scira fic?" **  
**

**Pairings: **Scira, past Kira/Female OC

* * *

Since starting to date Scott and finding out about werewolves (what a mess _that _was), Kira has figured out that literally nothing is as innocent as it seems. Including herself.

She's taken a picture of herself every night since she got her first camera phone. It was one of the reasons she begged her parents to let her upgrade to the Nokia Lumia when they renewed their contract—she likes selfies, and she likes Instagram, and she likes high quality phone pictures. It just wouldn't be the same if she used a real camera.

Before the aura—Lydia always calls it that—showed up, Kira always considered herself pretty average looking. She hadn't grown up in Asia, so she never really had to come to grips with being half-Korean and half-Japanese—no one here can tell the difference. But she does look at herself in the mirror, sees the way her nose belongs to her mother and her eyes belong to her father. Every night, she holds the camera at a different angle, tries to find what is uniquely hers about her face.

She thinks that's pretty normal, though, and eventually the aura _did_ show up. That's pretty specific to her, she thinks, though she wonders about her parents and whether they're the same.

"Does your mom know you're a werewolf?" she asks Scott one day, while she's lying on her stomach next to him on his bed.

He shifts and props his head up to look down at her instead of their shared textbook. "Yeah. She found out like a year ago."

"And she was okay with it?"

"Not at first," he says, and settles down again, so their faces are right next to each other. "She kinda freaked out for a while, but after she as okay with it, we got really close."

Kira smiles and tucks her face into her folded arms. "I can't imagine you two not being close."

He smiles back at her. "Mom has always been there for me. Before Stiles, and even sometimes when Stiles _can't_ be there. But I was a terrible son for a while, so any distance was all my fault."

She purses her lips and shuts her eyes. "You were distant when you were keeping all the secrets from her, right?"

"Yeah," he says, softly. He moves one of his hands to her shoulder. "But I'm not trying to compare us, Kira. You don't even know exactly what you are or what it entails. And you and your dad are closer than most people."

She opens her eyes and smiles at him smiling at her before wiggling closer to him on the bed and kissing his cheek. "Thanks." She's not sure he's _right_, per se, but she doesn't think he's wrong, either.

She lifts her phone, then, and flips the camera around to face them. "Smile," she commands, and he beams.

In the picture, it's harder to tell who has distorted the image more—she's glowing everywhere, but his eyes are like flood lights.

"We look cute together," she says, and Scott laughs.

* * *

When she was 14, she took her first health class. Her first because when she transferred to Beacon Hills, they had apparently decided other high schools couldn't get it right, and she'd been enrolled _again_.

But the first time, they mostly looked at gruesome slideshows that encouraged them to wear seat belts and condoms. Not at the same time, because obviously having sex in a moving car is pretty dangerous.

And yeah, she was aware, even at 14, that people did that anyway.

The sex ed section essentially boiled down to what she'd learned in _Mean Girls_—if she did have sex, she'd probably get pregnant, and if she didn't die, she'd definitely pick up an STD.

She didn't learn a thing about sexuality in health either time she took it. In biology, they talked about animals going into heat and showed her cross sections of penises and vaginas that made her grimace. She paid attention anyway, because who knew? Maybe some day she'd want to know that sperm and pee have the same exit.

Actually, no. She never wanted to think about that.

"Sex seems pretty gross," she informed her father one day while she was setting the table.

In the kitchen, her dad almost dropped his knife. "What? Are you having sex? Are you using condoms?"

"No!" she said immediately. "I mean I'm not sexually active, not that I'm not being safe—although I guess I'm not because I'm not having sex, so no condoms—"

"Kira," her dad interrupted, sounding vaguely exasperated. "What are you talking about?"

"I _mean_," she sighed. "We're learning about human bodies and sex and they're really gross."

"Oh, well yeah," he agreed easily. "Sometimes that makes things more interesting, though."

"Oh, jeez, _gross_! Why did I even bother having this conversation with you?" she wondered, and exited the dining room immediately.

Her dad laughed every time their eyes met at dinner.

* * *

Scott likes to go on dates. It's almost weird, because he's not doing it to try to get in her pants. It's not really because he's bored and wants to keep things interesting, either. It's more like...Scott wants to spend as much time as possible with her, which is impossibly sweet, and wholly Scott.

"What are you doing tonight?" Scott asks, bouncing on his toes a little. He's got this infectious grin and his hand is reaching out to grab hers.

"Homework," she muses. "Maybe some research on what to do when your boyfriend is too cute to function."

His smile grows even wider. "You think I'm cute?"

Questions like this still make her blush. She rocks forward until she can rest her forehead on his shoulder. "Stop."

"Well, can I convince you to let your homework wait until tomorrow? Or can we just go to the park for a few hours?" He tugs on her hand until she leans back to look up at him again.

She thinks about making him wait, but it's hard not to smile at Scott. "Yeah, _okay_. But if my grade slips, Dad says he's dropping yours with it."

"He would never," he says, laughing.

"He might."

"No way."

"I would," her father announces from behind Scott.

Scott jumps and whirls. "Whoa!"

"Have a nice time on your date tonight," he says cheerfully, and claps a hand on Scott's shoulder once. "And maybe try to eat something a little adventurous, like kimchi."

"He doesn't know how to make kimchi," Kira points out. "And I'm really bad at it."

"Sounds like one of your dates should be a cooking lesson with a really good chef...maybe a cool dad." He gives them a significant look.

Kira covers her eyes with a slap.

"That sounds really awesome, Mr. Yukimura," Scott enthuses. "I'll talk to you about it later. I don't think I'll have time this weekend, but maybe sometime next weekend, after we finish our history projects."

"An excellent choice," her father says, smiling. "See you at home, Kira. Have a nice day, Scott!"

"My dad is the worst," Kira sighs.

"I can't agree with you because he may hear me and decide to cut me out of his scrapbooks," Scott replies seriously.

"He doesn't have scrapbooks."

"He's showed them to me."

She looks at him. "You're kidding."

He raises one eyebrow.

"You have to be."

He shakes his head once.

She groans and covers her face with both hands this time.

Scott laughs. "Okay, okay, I'm kidding."

"Not funny," she says, and punches his arm.

He grins at her and rubs it. "Sorry, sorry!"

Hands on her hips, she raises an eyebrow. "You better learn to make the best damn kimchi I've ever tasted."

He winces. "Fingers crossed." Then he leans forward and kisses her quickly. "Park?"

She melts at his dimples and nods. "Park."

* * *

She's messing around on the Internet when she runs across the definition of asexuality, nods thoughtfully, and then goes back to watching videos of cats playing the piano.

Two days later, she's wiping her lips furiously after having been kissed by some jerk who, apparently, was into "Oriental bitches like you."

She feels humiliated and disgusting, which she tries to explain to her best friend.

Leanne blinks at her. "But...he's hot. Was it really that bad?"

Kira's not even sure what bothers her the most. That he called her oriental and a bitch? That he kissed her without asking? That she told her best friend and all she had to say was that he was hot?

_Was_ he hot?

Objectively, she could see it. But she wasn't really attracted to him. That might have something to do with his stunning and fairly racist personality. "He called me Oriental. And a bitch."

"He didn't mean it like that," Leanne said, rolling her eyes. "Come on. He's cute, right?"

"I guess so," she mutters, but she doesn't really think so. How can anyone be cute with that terrible of a personality? She sat through the class without bringing it up again, but it kept bothering her. Should she be feeling some kind of burning in her groin? That's how her mom had described sexual attraction when she was 12 and asking more questions about sex.

Unbidden, the definition for asexuality comes to mind. Has she _ever_ experienced sexual attraction? She can't think of a time. She sorts through everything she's gone through in the past couple months and draws blank after blank. Maybe she's a late bloomer.

Or maybe she'll never bloom.

On the bright side, she doesn't have to worry about being attracted to a racist white guy.

* * *

They sit with their limbs tangled on the merry-go-round, still spinning from when Scott pushed them off.

Kira has 7 fingers up and she says, contemplatively, "Never have I ever had a crush on someone older than me."

Scott puts down a finger, bringing him down to four. "Allison is a year older than me," he explains, and then taps his remaining four fingers on his chin. "Never have I ever...gotten drunk."

Kira wiggles her fingers at him and shrugs. "Neither of my parents drink and I never had a real interest in it."

"I never drank until I was bitten, and now I can't get drunk," Scott explains miserably. "Also, I'm going to lose this game."

"Yeah, well, I'm really boring," she tells him, leaning forward and grinning.

Scott gives her an incredulous look. "I think you mean perfect."

She's always smiling when she's with Scott. Part of it is that he's usually smiling, and part of it is that he's always saying nice things to her. She leans forward and kisses him quickly. Against his mouth, she says, "Never have I ever...eaten a homemade enchilada."

He kisses her back. "Me either. Mom doesn't like 'em."

"Darn," she mumbles. It's easy to steal another kiss from him, to lick the edge of his lips and wait, patient, until he opens up for her and sighs into her mouth. These are the moments she loves—slowing down on a merry go round while her heart speeds up, in time with Scott's. She can feel his pulse through his thumbs. One of them is resting on her open palm; the other is sliding up her arm to curl around her neck.

He draws back to say, "Never have I ever failed at making kimchi."

She groans and puts a finger down. "Jerk."

"I know," he says, and then giggles at his own joke.

"I didn't even know you knew that song," she says, smiling despite herself. "Never have I ever been called 'the hot girl.'"

He laughs harder now. "That can't even be true," he argues, even as he puts his finger down. "You're the hottest girl. So hot."

"Too late," she says, starting to laugh with him. "At the time it was said, I had not been called 'the hot girl.'"

"That's brutal," Scott says. "Your dad is gonna kill me. I have to call you hot more often."

"Okay with me," she replies.

* * *

After the fiasco with Leanne and the racist jerk, Kira spent a lot of time researching sexuality. She probably knew more about the asexuality spectrum than any other 15 year old at her school, and tentatively marked herself down as asexual.

Then Julie happened.

Julie was _perfect. _Kira met her when she glided into math class in three-inch heels and a pink blouse over a grey pencil skirt. She sat next to Kira without waiting for the teacher to introduce her as the new student, and rather than standing at the front of the room, waved from her seat, said, "My name is Julie, and I'm not going to help you with your math homework just because I'm from India."

Kira knew they had to be best friends, and Julie didn't seem to mind, based on the way she smiled over at her. "Cute shoes," she said, gesturing at the combat boots. Kira had painted daisies on them with white-out and then colored them yellow with a highlighter, the way Sam had in _All-American Girl_.

"Thank you," she whispered, awestruck.

At lunch, the two of them sat together. "I don't want you to think I'm befriending you purely because you're Asian," Julie explained as she chewed on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "But I kind of am. I just figured you'd understand people asking for your help in calculus and shit. I mean, I _could _help them, but I'd probably get everything wrong. I just started Algebra 2 this year. Why should I know?"

Kira had nodded enthusiastically. "No, I totally get it. Totally. I'm not actually very good at math, but I really like history and English. I kind of have to like history, though. My dad teaches World History, here, actually, so I've kind of been raised on it."

"Cool," Julie said.

It wasn't cool, back then, but Julie kind of made her feel like it could be. She liked Kira's dad well enough, even though she wasn't very good at remembering dates.

She always wore heels, and on Fridays, she brought vegetarian curry for lunch. "It's my favorite food," she confessed. "Mom makes it _so well_. She promised to teach me when I turned 16. Oh! You should come and learn, too! My parents would love you."

They did. And Julie's mother taught them how to make all sorts of traditional Indian food, even more than just curry.

"My mom is a bad cook," Kira confessed after the third time she botched her biryani. "I think she passed it to me."

Julie had giggled. "You better hope I'm always around to fix your mistakes," she teased, and then reached across Kira to take the dish out of the way.

"Yeah, you better be," she teased right back, and then had a mental meltdown. Because—she really wanted Julie to always be around.

Holy crap. She was completely in love with Julie, who was only supposed to be her friend. And not only that, but the sight of her in a dress and heels was really, _really_, working for her.

Kira went home and researched _everything_ all over again. She found the missing link in the second hour—demisexuality, something she'd always dismissed in the past. But now it didn't seem so unlikely. Because she was thinking about how much she wanted to kiss Julie, and maybe a whole lot more.

"What are you doing?" her mom asked, leaning in the door.

"Researching," she said grimly, her eyes scanning the short entry on the AVENwiki over and over again.

Her mom crossed the room to rest her hand on her shoulders. "Interesting stuff," she murmured after reading the brief entry herself. "Is it for you or a friend?" Her mother _knew_, of course, but she still offered that out.

Kira spun in her chair and hugged her mom around the waist. It was just nice to know whatever she was—demi, ace, maybe even pan, who really knew—her parents wouldn't tell her she was wrong.

* * *

Scott doesn't buy her things, really. It's probably because he spends half the time completely broke and the other half with just enough money to put gas in his bike. Deaton has given him one raise since they started dating, but Scott puts most of his paycheck into savings. "College is hard to get into," he says grimly one day, kicking at a pile of leaves. "And I had that whole semester of, like, Cs and Ds sophomore year. So even if I get a scholarship, I'll probably still have to pay. College boards are really unforgiving."

"It's true," Kira agrees. "Don't feel bad, Scott. I've only dated one other person before, and she never bought me anything, either."

"You dated a girl?" Scott asks with vague interest. He doesn't really wait for an answer before pointing at the porch swing. "Do you want to sit?"

"Yes, and yes," she says, and he grabs her hand happily.

Once they're settled in on the swings, Scott says, "Are you _sure_ you're okay with it? I can borrow money from Stiles or something."

"No, it's fine," she says, waving a hand. She glances at him and only sees earnestness, not even vague curiosity about Julie. At least not that she can see. "Like I said, I'm used to it."

"But...I want to be the best boyfriend possible," Scott sighs, leaning forward miserably.

"You're pretty great," she says, and giggles. He still looks upset, so she says, "Never have I ever had a celebrity crush."

Scott groans and immediately holds up both palms to put one finger down. "It was Jennifer Lopez, after I watched Maid in Manhattan. She reminded me of my mom, actually. I think I just wanted her to move in with us. Maybe date my mom."

"That's so stupidly cute," she tells him, and happily kisses one of his fingertips. "I think we should date forever."

He beams. "Okay. I'm in."

She laughs a lot, when she's with him.

* * *

The first time she cleaned blood off of her hands, she'd just killed someone to save Scott.

Scott had been crumpled on the floor and Derek had been slumped behind him, looking distressed and howling weakly.

The dark men who looked like they had taken their costumes from a Harry Potter movie were slowly moving toward Scott, and Kira realized, dimly, that she was the only one still standing in the room.

Mentally, she apologized to Derek, and yanked down some wiring from the hole that he still hadn't repaired in his loft. It took her several long seconds to break the wires, and by the time she'd finished, she'd cut up her fingers. She couldn't feel anything, which she assumed was the adrenaline, but it didn't matter, because the wires were sparking and she—

"Hey!" she shouted.

Only one of the shadowy figures turned to look at her. That was a mistake.

She didn't know what she was doing, but the electricity—it was hers to direct. She let out her own howl, though it was more guttural and snarly than the one the wolves frequently used to communicate. The electricity blending with her blood exploded outward and the figures lit up.

It wasn't like before, when the sun just made them sort of dissipate. She could feel them dying, because the electricity was still coursing through her and into them. This would end. Now.

That was the second time she shut down the power to the city, and the first time she fainted from blood loss.

It was the first time she killed someone; five someones. But it wouldn't be the last.

* * *

Eventually, she wants to have sex with Scott, just like she eventually wanted to with Julie. Julie had been hesitant and so they hadn't done much—mostly they'd groped each other while making out. Once they'd stripped to nothing but underwear, which had been _awesome_. But it hadn't really ever been a huge deal to Kira that they weren't having sex. As much as she wanted to, she'd wanted Julie to be happy more.

But Scott likes sex. He'd explained as much the day he'd found out about being ace. So she doesn't feel weird, the night after the faeries, when she says, "I might want to have sex one day."

And it's okay, because Scott's only problem with it is that he doesn't have condoms.

It's not until several days later that she confesses her virginity.

"So you and Julie never…?" He lets the sentence trail off, obviously shy about asking. He never seems to mind hearing about Julie or the things they used to do, but sometimes he doesn't really know what to respond with.

Kira shook her head. "Julie had a really low sex drive and kind of wanted to wait until she was married. Which was fine with me! She was also kind of nervous about everything, so no, I mean, I never really touched her beneath the belt."

"Was she planning on marrying you?" he wonders. He won't look at her face, but he takes her hand in his and starts playing with her fingers a little. "Did you plan on marrying her?"

"I never really thought about it," she admits easily. She kisses the top of his ducked head. "We were only 15."

"We're only 17," he points out.

"Yeah, and we've been through a _lot_ together. I'm not saying I'm planning on marrying you, either, so like, don't misunderstand me—but I'm not opposed to the idea, probably? Unless it freaks you out, in which case—I have no opinion."

As usual, Scott doesn't let her babbling bother him. "You were opposed to marrying Julie?"

"It wasn't really feasible," she says. "Gay marriage wasn't legal in very many places."

"Oh, yeah," he says. He looks up at her. His brow is adorably wrinkled.

She reaches out to smooth it. "Don't worry. I'm _kind_ _of_ here for you, now. Julie's in the past."

"You still facebook her."

"We're still friends. Like you and Allison."

"Oh," he says, face clearing. "Yeah! Okay. Well, anyway, I've only had sex with Allison, so it's not a big deal that you're a virgin. I'll just make sure your first time goes well! No pain, all pleasure." He wiggles his eyebrows.

She laughs even as she turns bright red, lifting her hand to cover her face. "That's so forward."

"I know. I'm trying new things."

"I like regular Scott."

"Not new Scott?"

"He's okay. I guess I like every version of you there is."

His smile fades and his face gets really intense. "Good," he says. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," she whispers. She can't look away from him or move because it feels like this moment has to last forever. She never wants anyone else to look at her the way Scott's looking right now. Like she's perfect and _his—_

Maybe he moves first, but it feels like she's moving with him, until their noses are brushing. He tilts his head just enough to slot their faces comfortably.

He closes his eyes before she does, slow like molasses, and _perfect_, and, _shit_, she loves him.

When they kiss, it's a declaration, a gift, a wonder. She's feeling so much of everything—his soft lips, his delicate fingers, the tiny curls of hair at the back of his neck, and she loves him. She _loves_ Scott McCall, and she doesn't think a world exists where she doesn't.

Later, when she's at home, she sends a message to Julie about it. "I think I'm in love with him," she types. And maybe it's strange that she talks to her ex about things like this, but she and Julie were friends before they were more, and their parting had been amicable, so maybe it's okay.

Or maybe Julie will get distant and Kira will regret everything. Maybe she will wonder if Julie was the one she still wanted and if Julie still wanted her.

But Julie answers in less than ten minutes with, "OMG! That's so cute!" and Kira thinks it's all right.

* * *

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" her dad said, the morning after the faeries, when Scott has slipped away. "Your mom, too. I don't want to go the overbearing dad route, but I am a little worried about you. You've seemed a little distant lately."

"It's nothing, Dad," she said quietly. "Just…there's a lot going on."

"Ah, youth," he said sagely, nodding. "It's a rough time for all of us."

She smiled at him.

And then promptly frowned, when he said, "Is it because you and Scott are having sex? I know that's weird for you. Do you need some condoms?"

She groaned and rolled over until her face was tucked into her pillow. Scott's pillow, actually—or at least the one he'd slept on the night before. It smells like his shampoo. "I hate you." Then she considered. "But yeah, if you want to buy me condoms."

"I don't," he said, and patted her head. "If the two of you want to have sex, finance it yourself."

"You're terrible. I'm going to get pregnant just to spite you."

"Sure you are," he placated her. "You know, when I was young and having my very first sexual experiences, I didn't want to talk to my parents about it. So I did some very dumb things, like not using a dental dam when going down on my girlfriend. But I'm sure Scott won't make that mistake. I would be very upset if any kind of infections were passed between the two of you."

"Dad, where would we even have picked anything up?" she demanded, and then pushed her face harder into the pillow. "You are the worst. Go to jail; do not collect 200."

"You can never be too safe, sweetheart," he reasoned. "And I know Scott is very concerned about your safety."

She screamed into the pillow.

Her dad cackled—and it really, _really_ couldn't be described as anything else—and repeated, "Remember. You can talk to me about anything. Even the things that make you uncomfortable."

"Okay, okay, just get out!" she groaned.

* * *

On a Wednesday, she takes Scott's hand and shyly says, "Will you come over this afternoon?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Um, sure." He looks at her carefully. "But why are you nervous?"

"I want to tell mom and dad about it," she says meaningfully. "And I want you to be there. Not to tell them about werewolves! Just to…I don't know, support me? I'm kind of scared. They were really chill about me dating a girl and being demi, but like—I don't know, this feels as scary as coming out _should_ feel. So, like—"

"Yeah, totally," Scott says brightly, cutting her off before she can really work up a good panic.

Her shoulders slump, and she grins at him. "_Thank you_," she says happily, and kisses him deeply.

"Come on, take it to a janitor's closet _at_ _least_," her dad complains as he walks by.

She squeezes open an eye to look at him, and he winks at her.

Scott's fingers brush the skin right under the hem of her shirt and she cuddles closer to him. This is the best part of her day—standing on her toes and kissing the cutest and greatest boy in the world, who kisses her like she's precious and delicious all at once.

"Love you," she murmurs when they part briefly to breathe.

He immediately kisses her again, but he can't stop smiling, so the kiss is weirder than normal. "Love you, too."

"Good," she whispers. "Because you're stuck with me."

"I'm good with that," he says. "Let's date forever."

"I'm in."

They laugh a lot, when they're together.

* * *

**A/N**: On AO3, these are posted separately, but because sequels don't really work well on this site, I'm just posting all the timestamps into this story.


	3. Indescribable

Anonymous asked, "Ace!Scott and Demi!Kira was so beautifully written. You have the pair tone down so well. Please let there be more to it!"

Since a prompt wasn't attached I started the OTP Feels meme.

Day 1: Run

This is set in the earlier stage of their relationship, before Scott knows he's ace, which is why he's a little bit "weird" about some things in this.

* * *

"What's a full moon like for you?"

Scott looks up from his textbooks at Kira, who's slumped across the table and reading _New Moon_. Or, she was, before she set it down to ask him.

He frowns and absentmindedly traces circles into the table. "I don't know how well I'd be able to describe it. They kind of suck. My skin kind of…You know when you get the flu and you get achy? It's like that, plus everything pisses me off."

"Everything?" she asks, tilting her head slightly. "Or like—just the stuff that you normally put up with? And on the full moon you just don't have the patience to deal with it?"

"Probably that," he says, shrugging. "But the aggression is really bad. I have to focus really hard on trying not to respond with violence."

She giggles a little, and goes back to reading New Moon.

He waits, sure that the giggle means something.

She turns the page, still snickering.

"Okay, what?" he asks, grinning a little.

She looks up at him, like she's surprised. Liar. "Nothing! It just sounds like you're on your period. Are you also hornier that day?" Then she starts giggling again and buries her face back into the book.

He rolls his eyes. He's kind of…never horny. "I guess PMS is a valid comparison? Minus the whole blood thing. Kind of."

"I imagine," she offers, turning another page before looking up at him. "You probably react differently than curling up in a ball, though. Is chocolate a thing for werewolves?"

"No, usually I just feel like running."

"I take it back. It's completely different than a period." She makes a noise of disgruntlement. "Why is Jacob such a douchebag?"

"Why are you reading that?" he asks skeptically. "Did Stiles tell you there was good information on werewolves there? Because I haven't noticed very many correlations."

"Did he tell you that?" she wonders, quirking an eyebrow at him. "I'm reading it because Lydia was saying she hated it, but it's basically a rite of passage for teen girls to read it, so I have to."

"I thought it was just Twilight that was the requirement?" he mumbled. He kind of remembered that conversation, a couple days ago. On one hand, he was glad Lydia and Kira were becoming friends. On the other, it was weird to watch a 17 year old girl read Twilight three years after it was cool.

"Well, yeah, but I already read Twilight, yesterday. And two things—one: I'm dating a werewolf, not a vampire, and two: if I'm going to pick between team Edward and team Jacob, I need to read all the books. "

"Have you picked yet?"

"So far, Jacob is slightly less annoying. I'll report back later."

"I'm sure Lydia will be thrilled to hear all your opinions," he says doubtfully. He's not sure Lydia really cares about Twilight very much at all.

Kira shrugs, apparently unbothered by his tone. "When's the next full moon?"

"Next Tuesday. Why?"

"Just wondering. Will you try to kill me if you see me?"

"No, of course not!" he says immediately, pushing aside his textbooks to reach out and grab her hand. "You're…I wouldn't—of course not."

She smiles at him beatifically. "Great! So is it cool if I come by to see you after school? I can leave before dark and everything. I just want to try to make you feel less…terrible? I guess?"

"I don't know…" he says hesitantly. "It seems dangerous."

"You can handle it, Scott," she says. She meets his eyes calmly. "I know you can."

"But my anchor—"

She pats his hand, where it's still holding hers. "I trust you."

And he can't argue with that.

* * *

Tuesday, Kira shows up in black leggings and a loose t-shirt. "You wanna run with me?" she asks. "I pulled out my old track shoes."

"I usually run barefoot," he admits, but he laces up a pair of shoes. He feels like crap, but at least his girlfriend is the cutest person in the world when she's wearing a shirt she stole from him. Actually, their mixed scents make it better, less terrifying. He almost trusts his instincts around her.

But not quite.

"If I get snarly," he says as he finishes tying his shoes. "I—don't run. Or try to hide. Or get scared. Just. I don't know—try to be still and talk me through it?"

"It's not going to be a problem," she says confidently. "I know you, Scott. You're good."

"Being a good person doesn't make you a good werewolf," he reminds her.

She smiles at him. "Come on. I'll tell you whose team I'm on while we run."

* * *

They jog around the neighborhood at the pace Kira sets. It's more jogging than running, but that's mostly so she can talk to him while they run, she says. "I can go faster, but talking wouldn't be possible!" she chirps. "I ran track in middle school. But I quit in high school. Too much pressure; too much time."

He doesn't mind the jogging. He likes talking to Kira, and he's still burning energy. "Whose team are you on?"

"Not Jacob or Edward. They're both abusive and terrible."

He laughs a little. It's not really funny; it's just that she sounds so indignant. "So whose team?"

"Team Bella, obviously," she says. "Team Someone Tell Bella She's Being Abused."

"Oh, of course," he agrees. "When did you finish the books?"

"In English today. Very boring class, honestly. Hey, let's pick up the pace? I'll have to stop talking but I think—" She starts full out running rather than finishing her sentence, and he hurries to catch up with her.

* * *

They end up running in the park. Some of the trails go into the preserve, and she only slows down for a second to glance back at him before turning onto one. Apparently, Kira has decided that he can be trusted enough to run with in non-populated areas.

He can't say it's the right choice, but he also knows he'd sooner kill himself than hurt her. He just has to maintain that control. Yeah. It's possible.

He hopes.

The last full moon wasn't too bad. Derek was back and helped him through using himself as an anchor, and he thinks this time he's got it.

Maybe.

Hopefully?

He runs alongside Kira to make it feel less like he's chasing her.

She glances over at him, not exactly panting yet, but breathing hard, and raises an eyebrow. "Ch—challenge?" she asks, and then starts running faster.

Well. He can feel his control slipping, but he's not angry. He feels playful. So he let's it take over, just a little, and chases after her.

She's laughing breathlessly, like she can feel him catching up. She pushes herself faster.

It's amazing. Scott wants to roll around in a field of wildflowers with her. Like, literally just roll around. That wasn't a euphemism. Just. _Yeah_.

He catches up to her eventually, but he let's her evade him a few times before catching her around the waist and spinning her around to hold close.

She laughs as he shoves his face in her neck and curls her fingers into his hair. Her chest is heaving from all the running they've been doing, and she seems content to rest all her weight on him.

He's breathing a little hard himself, but it feels _great_.

"You're so cute," she tells him. In response he lifts her and spins her again, making her laugh and laugh.

That night, after Kira has gone home and Scott has gone over to Derek's to make sure nothing terrible happens, he doesn't feel so bad. The two of them play video games on the console and TV Stiles lent them until Scott falls asleep slumped against Derek's shoulder.

It's easily the best full moon he's ever had. When he wakes up, he texts Kira a smiley face. She sends him a heart, and he smiles until Derek kicks him out.

* * *

Cross posted from AO3, originally posted on tumblr at imagreatbowler.


	4. Indefatigable

Anonymous asked, "hi! i love your scira fics omg. could you write something about scira cooking? baked goods, dinner, for themselves, for other people w/e idec just something involving food pls & ty!"

Originally this was going to be very different, and kind of angsty pine-y? But then i was like "naw" so I started completely over.

Fun fact: I don't like kimchi. I've never made my own. I just looked up a recipe on the internet, which I can give you if you want it?

But this is mostly because I felt like Scott deserves cuddling and happiness and encouragement from the Yukimuras so that is what I did

* * *

Scott lingers after class one afternoon. Kira looks at him oddly, but he gestures for her to go on.

She raises an eyebrow, and mumbles, "You better not be asking my dad for permission to date me."

He grins a little because he has her Dad's enthusiastic encouragement. Anyway, he knows enough from his mother, Allison, and late night texting with Lydia, that it's annoying when girls get treated like the property of their father. So he shakes his head and carefully walks to Mr. Yukimura's desk.

"What can I do for you, Mr. McCall?" Mr. Yukimura raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms casually.

"Um…teach me to make kimchi?" he says hesitantly.

Mr. Yukimura beams. "Oh, Scott. I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

Kira sits across the table from Scott and her father, smirking. She's not participating, because according to her she is awful at cooking. "Baking I can do," she says, and shrugs. "Pretend I'm like…Peeta. I'll give you cheese buns if you want."

"As long as he's wearing a condom while receiving said cheese buns, it's okay with me," her father says, and clasps his hand over Scott's shoulder.

"Dad, _no_," she protests. "Just…make your kimchi."

He shrugs goodnaturedly, and hands Scott a head of cabbage. "Start peeling leaves off."

Scott does so, and smiles at Kira across the table.

She grins back.

"Don't get distracted, Scott," Mr. Yukimura chides. "Cooking requires one's full attention. This is why Kira is supposedly so bad at it. If she'd just focus…" He winks at his daughter.

She makes a face at him. "It's not about focus, Dad. It's about passion. I just don't have passion for…fermenting cabbage."

"You seem to have a bunch of passion for eating it," he says smugly.

"Totally different," she says, rolling her eyes. She catches Scott's eyes and winks at him.

"I'm thinking about a hen baking bread…" Mr. Yukimura gently moves Scott's head until he's facing the cabbage again.

"Real life isn't a fairy tale. Anyway, I'm your daughter. You're supposed to provide for me."

"Oh, of course," he says, clasping his hands in front of his heart dramatically. "I'd never let you starve. It's just such a pity that you're letting a lack of passion keep you from following in my footsteps."

She purses her lips. "So if I learned to cook, I'd be following in your footsteps?"

"Yes," he replies. "Almost done, Scott?"

"Uh," Scott says, frowning down at his steadily growing pile of cabbage. "I guess?"

Kira reaches across the table to pick through the leaves. "I think it's enough. There's only four of us eating. Unless—did you invite your mom?"

"Oh, um, she's working the night shift again," he says, shrugging. He's peeled nearly ¾ of the head of cabbage, some pieces more clumsy than others, but over all nothing is terribly done. "But she says thanks for the invitation, and that she'd love to another time."

"We'll work something out," Mr. Yukimura says, and pats his shoulder again. "Okay, so let's move on to the next step—weighing the cabbage." He points to a small kitchen scale and sets a glass bowl on it. "We have to set this as zero temporarily to truly weigh the cabbage."

"Like in chemistry," Scott agrees, and then dumps the cabbage into the bowl.

Mr. Yukimura shrugs. "I haven't studied chemistry in years."

"Like in chemistry," Kira confirms.

"Sure. Anyway, now we need to add salt—5% of what we just weighed. It will probably come out to about a ¼ of a cup…"

"That's a lot of salt."

"It's a lot of cabbage."

They set the cabbage up in a large bowl, sprinkle the salt over it, and cover it in brine. "Now we wait," Mr. Yukimura intones.

"How long?" Scott wonders, looking into the bowl.

"Well, usually 24 hours. But we'll just do it for two. Why don't the two of you watch a movie or something?" He waves them out of the kitchen and cleans up the mess.

"You wanna see something?" Kira asks, taking his hand with both of hers just outside the door. She grins at him hopefully.

He grins back at her. "Of course."

Despite what her dad likes to tease them about, they don't actually have sex very often. Kira's drive, while present, isn't really high, and while Scott enjoys it, he's pretty comfortable with the idea of never doing it again. So he doesn't worry when she pulls him down the hall and into her bedroom even though her parents are in the house. _If_ they were going to have sex, they'd be doing it at his house, because his mom works more than Kira's parents do—or in any case, there's only one of her, and two of Kira's parents. One of them is bound to be around most of the time, and even if they've been supportive, it's still _weird_.

"Come on, come on," she giggles, pulling him to sit on her bed and kneeling next to him. "Okay, watch," she says, lifting the cover of her lamp off and carefully stretching out a hand until her fingers are nearly touching the bulb. Electricity zaps out from her finger tips to the glass, and the coiled wire inside lights up.

"How are you doing that?" Scott wonders, leaning forward. He doesn't touch her, because he remembers learning about how electricity travels through human bodies when he was in elementary school. They stood in a big circle holding hands, and his teacher had shocked one of the students. The whole group had jumped, feeling the effects.

He thinks it's kind of cute and perfect that Kira has these abilities, because there's something undeniably contagious about her happiness.

"I don't know," she says, drawing her hand back. The bulb dies. "The first time I did it, it blew up. Mom was a little bit mad," she confesses. "But it's okay now. I figured out how to do it."

"You're really good at that," he says, reaching out to play with her hair a little. "Figuring things out."

She blushes and pushes her face into his shoulder. "Don't tease me."

"No, seriously," he insists, curling an arm around her shoulder. He doesn't mind having a conversation with the back of her head, if it means she's going to basically cuddle with him. "You're smart. Remember when you trained yourself with a sword you stole from your mom?"

"Shut up," she mumbles.

"No, it was so cool."

"Stop."

"But I have to tell you how perfect you are—"

"Scott, _no_."

"Kira, _yes_."

She huffs and pushes him down until he's laying on the bed and she can cuddle up against him. For a while, they're still, Scott looking up at the ceiling and Kira idly tracing the pattern of his t-shirt. It's one he borrowed from Stiles the other day, which is the only reason he'd ever wear a shirt that insisted he was a "stud muffin".

After several minutes of her running her fingers over the muffin, she stirs. "You're good at that, too."

"What?"

"Figuring things out. Seeing what no one else does."

He shifts, tries to look down at her. It's not really possible in this position, so he flops back again. "What do you mean?"

"Like…you were the only one who didn't think I was evil. Even Stiles…"

He shrugs, jostling her a little. "Yeah, but…if anyone else took the time to talk to you, they'd have known, too."

She huffs. "That's not the only time. I've heard about before, when you and Deaton put the mountain ash in Gerard's pills, and when you figured out how to anchor yourself without Allison…" Her hand spreads on his chest, just over his heart, and she presses a kiss to his chest, just next to her fingers. "Don't count your own achievements as nothing just to make me feel better."

"Achievements," he sighs, a little bitter. "Those aren't really…achievements."

"So what is an achievement?" she asks, and sits up. She leaves her hand on his chest, presses down slightly when he makes a move to follow her into sitting.

"I don't know," he sighs, relaxing into her bed again. "I'll let you know when I actually achieve something."

She sighs a little and starts carding her fingers through his hair. "I know you're still doing the whole 'Be a Better Scott McCall Program' thing, but I think…I think you should know that you're already pretty great, and the fact that you're _trying_ to improve yourself all the time is kind of it's own achievement. And you actually like my weirdo dad."

He does roll his eyes at that. "Don't act like _you_ don't like your 'weirdo dad.'"

She shrugs. "I have to. He's my dad." She grimaces and shakes her head. "Not that—I didn't mean _you_ have to like your dad. It's not…I just meant—"

He sits up and kisses her cheek, nuzzling her a little bit. "It's okay. I know what you meant."

She sighs and leans into him. "I just want you to know that I think you're really great."

"I think _you're_ really great."

"You could just say thank you," she says, but she smiles anyway.

He blows a raspberry into her face, and says, "Where's the fun in that?"

* * *

Mr. Yukimura gestures calmly to the pile of vegetables in front of him. "Okay, so now we need to chop some vegetables. Kira, think you can do this without messing up?"

"I don't know. I might cut my fingers off," Kira sasses, but she takes the proffered knife and starts slicing carrots.

"Focus, grasshopper," he says.

"Don't be a stereotype, please," she sighs.

"Scott, start in on the scallions," he continues, ignoring Kira. "You should slice them, like this." He demonstrates briefly, and then passes the knife and vegetables to Scott. "And I'll do the mustard greens."

After, they dump all the vegetables in a bowl, and without hesitating Kira starts grating the ginger root—something Scott has seen in supermarkets, but not actually seen used. It's kind of exciting. For all that Kira claims to be bad at cooking, she seems pretty comfortable doing this sort of work.

"This is daikon," Mr. Yukimura says, showing him the big vegetable.

"It looks like a white carrot," he says, nonplussed.

Mr. Yukimura shrugs in response. "It's not really like that. Parsnips are more of a white carrot."

"Never had that, either," Scott says with a shrug.

"Oh, Scott," he sighs, as he takes the grater from Kira and starts grating the daikon. "You are tragically uninformed about great food. I will just have to keep teaching you. I wouldn't want Kira to end up married to a man who can't make a meal from every continent, if not every country."

"Dad," Kira whines. "We're just 17!"

"And lots of people meet their future spouses before they're 18! I'm using statistics."

"That was in the past, as you've told me before," Kira insists, fists on her hips. "When people didn't move around as much!"

"Yeah, but you two are obviously perfect for each other."

Scott beams.

Kira catches sight of him. The corners of her mouth twitch, and she resolutely looks away from him so she can keep scowling at her dad.

"Start pressing the garlic, Scott," Mr. Yukimura says, and winks at him.

* * *

After they mix all the ingredients together, Scott is kind of stunned to find out they have to wait three days before eating it, but he embraces it easily enough. "So what are we doing for dinner tonight?" he wonders.

"Pizza," Mr. Yukimura says cheerfully, and calls in the order.

Mrs. Yukimura comes home from work a little before the pizza delivery boy arrives. She's wearing a very carefully tailored pantsuit and a small smile. "Hello," she says smoothly, kissing her husband on the cheek, touching her daughter's arm briefly, and smiling at Scott. She doesn't like to touch people, as far as Scott can tell, which he absolutely respects. He's just kind of glad Kira isn't the same, because he really likes cuddling.

She's scary in the same way Mrs. Argent was scary—only not exactly, because Mrs. Yukimura had listened when Scott insisted that he could help Stiles without killing him. She'd never tried to kill him, and actually seemed happy to know her daughter was dating a werewolf.

He really admires her, actually. She's strong in a way he'll never be, stoic when anyone else would be having an emotional break down. And she does light up around her family, like when Kira finally masters a new skill—maternal pride is _not_ a foreign look for Mrs. Yukimura.

Scott loves that.

If Mr. Yukimura is right, and he and Kira are going to end up married, he doesn't think he could have found a better family to marry into.

* * *

Three days later, Scott discovers that he doesn't really like kimchi, but he _does_ like Mr. Yukimura's rice. Kira cracks up at his face when he tries the first bite, and then scoops the rest of his onto her plate. She gives him extra green beans.

Mr. Yukimura shakes his head sadly. "Now you can never call me father."

Mrs. Yukimura rolls her eyes. "Give him time," she says. To Scott, she offers, "In some ways, kimchi is an acquired taste."

"Then I'll keep trying," he says, and steals a bite back from Kira's plate.

She rolls her eyes, but when her parents aren't looking, she leans over and whispers, "That's what I like best about you."

Cross posted from AO3, originally posted on tumblr at imagreatbowler.


End file.
